My mum leans over. Says, “I hope one day you’ll have a daughter as naughty as you!” I was five.
Busy Saturday supermarket. My wild screaming banshee daughter.
Sat in trolley, pushed trolley, balanced on trolley. Fell off bloody trolley.
Octopus arms grabbed chocolate, sweets, razors, wine, kitten food, … anything in reach.
Tried calm voice, angry voice, threats, bribes, biscuit from bakery man, tuts from condescending old bag. No truce reached.
Manhandle hellion into car where she’ll quickly fall asleep with no remorse and no recollection of her carnage.
When she wakes, I will say to her…